Don't Wake Me Up
by VeraRose19
Summary: Nothing about being in prison was okay, and Red no longer could pretend that it was. She couldn't ignore how impossibly alone she was. With sons who wouldn't take her calls, no friends, and a prison-daughter who would fly the nest soon enough. Red's situation was hopeless. It was time to accept that this is all she had and this was what she would die with. [One-Shot]


Every step was painful as Red was guided up the stone steps leading up from the Shu after a horrendous month...or had it been longer? She'd lost track. Counting days by counting how many times trays were slid through the slot in the heavy door at her, until even remembering that became too burdensome of a task.

Her cough wracked through her body as she walked, hunched over, and slow moving. Her muscles were tight from inactivity and her back was causing her considerable pain. Even trying to pull herself up to her fullest height was impossible right now, her spine was curved and every part of her trembled.

"How's Mendoza?" Red asked, her voice cracked and sounded strange to her. She'd gone days without speaking a word, but before that happened, there had been Gloria on the other side of the concrete wall, her voice discernible through the vent. She'd been an indescribable to comfort to Red as they'd survived the days and insomniac nights under the persistent lighting, by talking back and forth to one another about absolutely everything that was in each of their minds. There was nothing else to do, after all, and baring their souls helped to pass the time.

Red had been a downright mess when they'd come to take Gloria back to general population. She'd cried from loneliness and abandonment until she had no more tears to cry and had collapsed into a fitful sleep. She lay on her stone bed, forgotten and scared in the damp basement confines of a prison she no longer believed she would ever find a way out of.

"Mendoza, Mendoza," the guard mumbled, ignoring the coughs that were vibrating through Red's whole body as he tugged her impatiently through the corridor. "Wasn't she released? Yeah, she was let out last Monday."

"Released?" Red repeated, once she'd gotten control of her coughing. She shivered, feeling cold all over, and felt more confused than ever. Gloria was getting released in the summer. She'd said that several different times and Red knew she had not misheard.

She couldn't believe it was already July. The days had been endless down there and she'd lost all sense of time, but to leave at the beginning of winter and not come back until summer was unfathomable. No phone privileges, no letters from home-whether or not there'd have actually been any. She'd had no contact with the outside world. She'd heard nothing from her family. Left to her own devices, she'd replayed the worst moments of her life over and over, always returning to her impulsive stupidity of ruining her chance at visitation in order to confront Frieda.

"Early release," the guard explained, positioning them in front of the barred entrance to cell block C. "She wouldn't stop harping on about not having to miss Christmas with her kids."

"Christmas," Red murmured to herself. The gate opened and she was shoved inside. It closed promptly behind her and the guard used his keys to unfasten the handcuffs around her wrists. Then, the second gate into the cell block slide open to grant her entry inside.

She gazed around her surroundings for some sort of clue, not that the block would give much away in terms of holiday or celebration. Was Christmas nearing or come to pass? What had happened since she'd been isolated. And how was her family doing out in the world?

She hadn't been able to get them out of her mind for a minute. Even in sleep, they were there in her dreams. Accusatory stares and disappointed faces. They came to her as the little boys they'd once been. Back when they had loved and believed in her, before she'd made a mess of everything and ruined all their lives. They'd never look at her that way again. They might not even love her ever again.

She'd ruined her one chance to see her grandchildren. She couldn't get the picture out of her head of Vasily and Lida, with the two babies, waiting for her in the visitation room and being told what she'd done, and that they could not see her that day. Red remembered what it had been like to manage her young children. A long drive that would bore Yuri, mess up Vasily's feeding schedule, and have Maxsim nap at the wrong time which would screw up everyone's sleep schedule for days. They'd be grumpy, clingy, and fussy, but it had always been worth it. There had always been a purpose behind the efforts she'd gone to give her boys experiences and do something different.

There had been no rhyme or reason to her behaviour and she knew that what she had done to her son and his wife was unforgivable. Gloria might had been sympathetic to her actions when she'd confessed her mistakes, but she was different. Gloria had seen inside these prison walls and knew how they place could get to a person and make them do things they ordinarily wouldn't have. Even without approving of a lot of what she had done, Gloria could understand her. She could feel sorry for her. She could sense the hopelessness, anger, injustice, and fear Red was having to swallow and have compassion for how far she had fallen.

All Red's son would see is her mistake.

She ignored the curious stares from the other inmates as she hesitantly took a few steps into the pod. Nobody called out to her, nobody familiar approached to talk or offer a hand-which she probably wouldn't have declined no matter how much she wanted to. The Shu had been rough. She'd had this cough since she'd gone in there, body aches, and chills. The dampness made it hard to breathe and the cold made everything hurt. She barely could walk. She felt every one of her sixty years, and then some.

Red's eyes landed on the telephone, as the inmate using it returned the receiver to its cradle and walked away. The phone was free and she could use it. Red walked determinedly over and hacked forcibly into her sleeve before she wrapped her hand around the phone. She didn't even have to think of the digits that made up Vasily's number. She'd ran them through her head over and over again, thinking of how much it would mean to hear his voice, and trying to decide what she could possibly say that would make things right between them again.

Of everything in her life, Red prided being a mother above all else. It was what she loved and it was what she had always considered herself to be good at. At least, until now being forced to accept that she had three sons who hated her and had every right to. She had ruined whatever credibility she had as their mama when she'd wound up arrested and sentenced to years and years away from them. She'd lost the right to trust her motherly instincts when her attempts at trying to teach Tricia a hard lesson had contributed to the little girl's untimely death. Red couldn't even look at Nicky the same way anymore. She didn't deserve any of them. And without her children, Red didn't know how to exist.

Red slowly dialed Vasily's house with a shaking finger. She held the receiver to her ear and took shallow breaths that would not irritate the fluid on her lungs she could feel gurgling when she inhaled too forcefully. . The phone began to dial and with it her heart began racing. The prison message played over the line, a signal that someone had picked up on the other end and was debating whether to accept her call or not.

"_Hello? Mrs. Reznikov? Galina_," Red heard an exasperated sigh of her son's wife. Her breath rattled against the phone creating an echoing sensation. Muffled but audible, was the babbling of a cooing baby-the granddaughter she had missed out on seeing. Koyla was probably close by too. Playing with trucks or trains, innocent, and happy. She wondered what his parents must have told him to explain their long drive to a scary building to meet the Baba who never showed. She hated herself for putting them in that position.

Red's eyes immediately became blurry from tears and she had to clasp her hand over her mouth so that Lida wouldn't hear the wounded cry she was powerless to hold back. Muffling her voice only made the irritants in her throat and lungs more bothersome, and she promptly began coughing. Her heaves hacking into the phone.

"_You're sick,"_ Lida said, it was a statement, not a question. _"Vasily isn't here though."_

"You'll tell him I called, will you?" Red managed to get out.

"_I will,"_ Lida said stiffly. There was no trace of the warmth and kindness that had endeared Red to the girl from the moment they'd met. Vasily had brought her to the prison and as shameful as it was to be forced to meet somebody so important in a settling like that, Lida had an openness and compassion that had made it all seemed okay.

Red had been looking forward to getting to know her daughter-in-law more after her approaching release. She'd been excited to help take care of the grandchildren they'd blessed her with, of getting to be a significant part of their family, but now that was never to be. Lida had been good to her since they'd met, Vasily and his brothers had been patient and understanding.

But when was it finally time to say enough was enough? To accept that _Mamochka _was beyond their help. She was self-destructive, impulsive, and a liability to herself and others. How long could you hold onto a person like that before you needed to let go to save yourself?

"And tell him I love him," Red pleaded. "And that I'm sorry."

"_I'll tell him,"_ Lida said gently. The baby's sweet gurgles were transitioning into fussiness. There was some static over the phone. Lida probably changing positions or balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder while she tended to her daughter. The child Red would never get to hold, to be near, or even know.

"When will he be home?" Red asked anxiously. Whether it had been weeks, months-she still wasn't clear on the day but it didn't matter. There was urgency in her tone. There was so much she needed to say. Things she needed to get out so that they would understand her better, maybe even find it in their hearts to forgive. There was so much Vasily, Yuri, and Maxsim still didn't know.

"_He's not going to talk to you," _Lida said honestly. Her words were like a stab to Red's heart as she engulfed into another fit of coughing. Her daughter-in-law waited patiently on the other end. The baby was crying and a little boy's cries of _"Mama, Mama" _could be heard, as Koyla grew more restless for Lida's full attention.

"Please," Red whispered. She still wanted to believe that a phone call could make it right. That she could say all of the right things to make her son come back to her. That he'd get his brothers to come see her too. That she could find a way to have a life beyond these bars, stay connected to the family that meant the world to her, and have a future with them to return to. She couldn't accept that it was too late. That she had done the unthinkable and they no longer wanted, or were willing, to wait for her.

"_I'm sorry,"_ Lida said quietly. The time that had passed since their attempted visit had done a lot to ease her anger but that didn't change what had happened. _"I'll tell him you called, but I've got to go now. Take care." _

Even after she heard Lida hang up, Red couldn't bring herself to let go of the phone. Wishing, though she knew it was impossible, for someone who loved her to come back on the line. She'd worn everyone down though and they had all moved on. There were to be no more chances. They didn't want to listen to her pleas for love and understanding, they weren't to be guilted into coming to see her anymore, they didn't want to deal with any of it.

Red's need to create a meaningful life and family on the inside for herself was what had ultimately cost her her family outside. She should have spilled secrets, named names, betrayed her principles-done anything if it meant she would get to go home. That's what everyone else had done. And they had all moved on with their lives. Her life was basically over.

Red hung up the phone when she finally could bring herself to. Then she slowly shuffled her way to the staircase that lead to her upper floor cell. In a few hours she would be locked up like a caged animal once again. Let out just to eat and to pace, and then returned to a rock bottom and meaningless existence.

It would be so tempting just to end it. Not because she was a coward, but because she'd had enough. There was nothing left for her to do. No good could be accomplished in a place such as this and she no longer had any hope of it getting better. The rare times they crossed paths, things were strained between her and Nicky, Vasily wouldn't speak to her, and Yuri and Maxsim might as well have fallen off the face of the earth. If she killed herself, would anyone even notice?

Perhaps the sweet release of death wouldn't just be a relief for her. It might be a gift for her children to no longer need to think about her. To no longer be shackled with the burden of having a mother like her. She'd failed them all and loving them wasn't enough to undo the pain she had caused to them, and to herself. She honestly didn't know how she was supposed to survive ten more years of this hell. She'd be older, likely frailer, and perhaps faced with a family who didn't want her anymore. If she wasn't fighting to return to them, then what was the point?

Her skin grey, hacking up a lung, her hand gripping tightly to the banister so that she didn't fall down, Red slowly reached the top of the stairs. Sister Ingalls had gotten sick in the Shu. Caught Pneumonia, which had warranted her compassionate release. Yet, nobody had even given Red a second glance or acknowledged her poor health before throwing her back here. She'd never even seen a doctor.

Red all but collapsed onto the bed when she finally reached her cell. Her hands were shaking, the tips of her fingers bluish as she struggled to get enough air into her lungs. Her body was trembling and so cold all over that she dismissed the prison rule about sleeping on top of the bed and snuggled beneath the covers. She hugged the paper-thin pillow to herself, trying to get warm, and pretended that it was one of her babies.

She could have cried but all of her energy was going into keeping her cough under control. The last thing she needed was other inmates getting annoyed by her. Red rolled onto her stomach, balled her hand into a fist and pressed it hard into her chest. It helped to stifle the coughing and Red could get more air into her lungs.

"I'm not strong," she murmured sleepily to herself. Exhaustion was beginning to engulf her. Red closed her heavy eyes and laid perfectly still. The bed was slightly comfier here, she had an extra blanket, her books and other comforts were on hand should she stir. The air was warm, she had a better chance at recovery up here. Yet none of it mattered.

Shu might be its own special kind of hell but nothing about being in prison is ever okay, and Red no longer could pretend that it was. She couldn't ignore how impossibly alone she was. With sons who wouldn't take her calls, no friends, and a prison-daughter who would fly the nest soon enough. Red's situation was hopeless. It was time to accept that this is all she had and this was what she would die with. There was no end in sight.

Pressing on her chest, breaths shallow, Red shivered beneath her blankets and began to fall asleep. Hoping life would finally show her some mercy, and maybe she just wouldn't wake up.


End file.
